Yogurt Covered Pretzels
by Chloe-Bee
Summary: "It's a technique I've crafted for not eating." (Chapter 5 up now!)
1. Yogurt Covered Pretzels

Title: Yogurt Covered Pretzels  
  
Author: Chloe-Bee  
  
Summary: A Jessie piece. What's the typical day like for an anorexic teen?  
  
Notes: okay, don't shoot me! I have never seen "Once and Again" (gasp!), but I recently became a fan of Evan Rachel Wood, and saw some clips of her work, read some transcripts, and let's just say, I hope I nail the characterization. I've done my best without having seen the show.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Small pale hands reached out and hit the repeat button on a personal cd player. The nails were covered in purple nail polish, and parts of the paint had been scratched off, marring the surface of the color. Making it cut up. Making it look worn and untidy.  
  
Making it imperfect.  
  
Jessie Sammler's features screwed up in irritation as she brushed her pointer finger over each digits surface, mentally adding another task to her list of errands and 'assignments' that needed to be done that evening.  
  
Draping her gym towel quickly over her svelte form, she uncomfortably tried to shield her body from the eyes of the other members in her P.E. class. In one deft moment, she pulled her green and white soccer jersey over her head, and relaxed somewhat once it was securely buttoned up.  
  
*Now for the pants!*  
  
A voice broke through her thoughts.  
  
"Markson! You are late! And Sammler - can I see you for a minute please?"  
  
A few kids fell into the typical "ooohing" pattern so common of the immature, but most were pleasantly quiet.  
  
Jessie bit back a groan, turned off her music, and stashed her backpack, jeans and turtleneck in her locker, before lacing up her sneakers and trotting over to her physical education teachers office.  
  
The door was open, and she went in with feigned temerity.  
  
"Ms. Patterson?"  
  
"Come in Jessie."  
  
And she did - plopping her thin self down in a padded chair; she found herself wrapping one golden curl around her finger. It was an anxious habit.  
  
Tightening it, and tightening it, and then - releasing it.  
  
Her finger had gone blue and red where she had cut off the circulation.  
  
"What is this about?" She kept her eyes on her finger. She also managed to keep her voice steady.  
  
"You've missed a few classes Jessie. Is everything ok?"  
  
Terribly kind.  
  
*Don't pity me*  
  
"Fine. Appointments." Her own voice was more abrupt than she would have liked. It made her responses sound all the more suspicious.  
  
"Really?"  
  
Blue eyes met brown for the first time.  
  
"Really! I was at my doctor's. The receptionist couldn't fit me in at a better time."  
  
The teacher's lips pursed together in concentration.  
  
"You were at the doctors office three times in one week? At the same time every other day?"  
  
Skepticism.  
  
Great.  
  
Just great.  
  
Now she'd have to explain herself.  
  
"I was seeing my counselor." Ok - so that wasn't the technical term.  
  
In fact, it was rarely used anymore. Except within the school system.  
  
Which prompted yet another question. Jesus - couldn't this woman take a hint?  
  
"Jess. You just said-"  
  
The teen cut the adult off midway.  
  
"My therapist? He's a psychiatrist. A *doctor*. He had to take a more severe case during our original time slot. It should be sorted out by next week."  
  
The words were ground out. She just wanted to get out of there. Even soccer sounded like fun right about now.  
  
The teacher, however, had other ideas.  
  
"And do you think they - these visits - do you think they are helping you? Because you have had some fainting spells recently-"  
  
God. Who did she think SHE was? A shrink?  
  
Her next response was short and sweet, yet tempered by politeness. She had been taught well. She was Karen's daughter, all right.  
  
"I guess they are helping. And I fainted - twice, yes. But only because I didn't drink enough water. I told you that. May I please return to the gym now?"  
  
End of discussion. She had a way of terminating any conversation.  
  
It was a gift, really.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She waited until she got home to use the shower. Communal showers?  
  
*I don't think so*  
  
Darting through the door, she was greeted by her father and Eli.  
  
"Hey, slow down Cricket! Can't you give your Dad a hug?"  
  
"Dad? I must smell from gym. I'm getting a shower. THEN I'll give you a hug."  
  
She passed a knowing look to Eli. Ever since she had relapsed six weeks ago, and they had found her lunches festering away in the compost, all uneaten, they had started watching her like a hawk again. Her doctor had also suggested that she see him three times a week, and not just on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons anymore.  
  
Physical gestures were also on the rise. And she knew why. If they touched her, they could determine if she was loosing more weight, or if she was making progress and gaining.  
  
Even Zoe was getting in on it. ZOE! And she wasn't even family. Not really. Eli tried to be more tactful about it all.  
  
Basketball slung under his arm, he addressed his little sister amicably.  
  
"You don't look sweaty or gross to me, Jess."  
  
His comment was returned with a searing death glare from the 5 ft 2 dynamo.  
  
"Aww, come on. I just thought you'd like to shoot some hoops! But, if you have to get your shower right now, like you always do, I guess you'll miss out."  
  
She flashed him a smile, paced over to the fridge, grabbed her water bottle, and scurried out the back door, right behind her brother.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Okay. Are we playing to 21?"  
  
Jessie nodded, her face severe, probably taking the game a little too seriously. Her hair whipped around her face, the curled edges tickling her chin. She swiped at the stray strands that had blown over her lips and had become stuck to her cherry balmed lips.  
  
Eli passed the ball to her for the first shot, speaking calmly as he did.  
  
"You know, you gotta lighten up on Dad. He's just concerned about you."  
  
She stood where she was - eyes plastered on the asphalt, hands buoying up and down as she dribbled the orange orb.  
  
"He doesn't have to be concerned. I'm fine." Her expression, however, belied her words.  
  
Elias Sammler had had enough. "Damnit Jessie! You aren't fine! You never eat, for cripes sake! How is that fine!?"  
  
She had really thought he had been giving her an out. She had really thought he cared about not pushing her, giving her space.  
  
Guess not.  
  
"I don't have to stay here and-"  
  
"And what Jessie? "Take this"? Like it's abuse? Why can't you just eat something and put everyone at ease?"  
  
Her eyes flashed fire. "Oh! You want to talk about doing what is GOOD for you? Why do you hole yourself up in your room and smoke pot every five minutes if you care about putting anyone's mind at ease?!"  
  
Her anger swelling, she threw the ball to him, and stalked back to the house.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She was cold. So cold.  
  
Turning the metal taps clockwise, a blast of hot water surged through the faucet and covered her from head to toe.  
  
Getting very dizzy all of a sudden, she dropped to her knees, and encircled her legs with her rail thin arms. Tears flooded to her eyes, and she cried under the blast - knowing that this was the only time she could be alone and in total privacy.  
  
Since someone was always barging into her room, and would see her even if they couldn't HEAR her over the volume of whatever musical selection she would choose to drown out her sobbing, the only place of real security that remained was the bathroom.  
  
Wiping her eyes, she laughed a teary laugh at the silliness of trying to 'dry ones eyes' in a shower, while phlegm and tears and bile swirled down the drain.  
  
Now to clean up.  
  
Grabbing a hold of the pineapple scented body wash; she liberally applied it to her skin and almost violently scrubbed with her lufah.  
  
Rinsing the shampoo from her tresses, she rose slowly, and emerged from the tub, yanking a pink terry cloth robe from the metal hanger that had been left hanging over the hamper.  
  
Knotting the sash, she unhurriedly walked back to her bedroom, pulling a small sport bra, socks, underwear, and her pajamas from the dresser before shutting the door.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
A scrunchie kept her hair out of her face, and she entered the kitchen almost cautiously.  
  
Lily and her father did their pathetic lovey-dovey dance around the other as they set the table, and Grace begrudgingly moved her sketchpad and pens at her mother's request.  
  
Zoe sat on her haunches with a game boy in hand. Eli, who had just sauntered into the dining room, plunked himself down and started eating from his dish with great speed and ease.  
  
"Jessie! Hey honey. This is your seat." Her father addressed her much too enthusiastically for her liking.  
  
Jessie could see her plate was the only plate that was barren of food. She looked up at Lily questioningly.  
  
"We thought you'd prefer to serve yourself", the brunette replied calmly.  
  
Jessie sat down awkwardly. It was bad enough that Eli and her dad and mom hovered over her! Yet, even though she got along with Grace and Zoe now, and Lily for that matter, they still made dinners so much more stress inducing.  
  
Sitting stiffly, Jessie asked for the green beans, and flooded her plate with them, leaving no space for the vegetarian lasagna or the hash browns.  
  
Grace had the good sense to keep quiet, but Rick didn't.  
  
"Sweetie? Lily made the lasagna specifically with you in mind. Aren't you going to try some?"  
  
She was trapped. She weighed her food choices carefully. Eat a little now, and get them off her back, or stubbornly munch on the beans and have them exchanging worried glances all evening?  
  
With disdain, she scrapped a good portion of the vegetables back into their serving dish, and then proceeded to cut a small 3 inch by 3 inch square of pasta from the dish.  
  
They didn't look happy, but some of the tension had seeped from her dad's face.  
  
She ate slowly - drinking her orange juice first, and then spitting half of the chewed up food back into the opaque cup once it was empty of the fruit juice.  
  
No one seemed to notice.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Out on the porch, she pulled her sweater tighter around her arms, and vigorously rubbed her hands.  
  
It was December in Illinois, and she couldn't stay out here much longer without getting sick.  
  
The sound of squeaking was heard, and she looked up quickly.  
  
Eli loomed over her, bowl in hand, and dropped to the porch steps to sit next to his sister. With a fast glance, she noticed that it was filled with yogurt-covered pretzels.  
  
Her favorite food.  
  
"Eli?"  
  
He nodded at her unvoiced question.  
  
"And you better eat these Jess."  
  
A hint of a threat?  
  
She took one gingerly, and nibbled the yogurt off the bends of the pretzel before meeting his eyes.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
His voice was hard. "Lying doesn't become you Jessie. But you are doing an awful lot of it lately. You don't think that I know what you did at supper? You didn't eat your food!"  
  
She paled.  
  
"If you don't eat something. I'll tell Dad what you are doing. He'll take you to a hospital!"  
  
She noted with alarm that he looked pretty serious.  
  
Her voice was strained by the lump in her throat. "Ok."  
  
Swallowing one of the pieces, her hand almost shakily went back for another piece. Tears started to prick her eyes, and after she finished the second one, she wiped the crumbs from her pajama bottoms and stood up, ready to go back into the house.  
  
"Sit back down and finish these." He almost growled at her, and her heart started to race.  
  
He wanted her to eat the entire bowl?  
  
"Eli? I can't!" The tears had engulfed her eyes, and had spilled over the brim of the lids, flowing hotly down her sunken cheeks.  
  
"You will Jess. I checked. ALL of these have less than 500 calories. That's what you are worried about isn't it? Not eating too many calories, right? God Jess - this STILL isn't enough food!"  
  
Something happened them. Some intense anger that had been carefully guarded had torn out from its jail.  
  
"NO ELI! IT ISN'T ABOUT THAT! IT ISN'T ABOUT CALORIES!"  
  
Breaking down into tears, into sobs that racked her body, Eli froze.  
  
Jessie had never exploded, emotionally, like that before.  
  
"What's it about then?", he queried patiently.  
  
Her head hung in her lap, cradled by the taut pull of her sweater over her knees.  
  
"I - I can't control anything anymore Eli. Nothing's right. Nothing is the way it is supposed to be! Don't you get it!?"  
  
He winced at her words, and placed the bowl softly by her side before briefly touching her hand and exiting the room.  
  
As he left, the hard pretzels lay within her field of vision, mocking her. Her favorite food tainted by pressure and force.  
  
But Eli had left to give her a choice. He had learned, at that moment, that all the eating in the world wouldn't fix the underlying problem. That had to be dealt with first before any true progress could be made.  
  
His leaving was an act of faith - of trust.  
  
She knew he wanted her to finish the snack.  
  
So, to help rebuild her relationship with her brother - with her family - with HERSELF - she let her fingers encircle one more pretzel.  
  
Which she ate.  
  
And, strangely, inexplicably, for the first time since her fear and shame and apprehension around food had begun - for the first time in a long time - she didn't feel only guilty for eating the morsel.  
  
She felt proud.  
  
Proud that she hadn't betrayed her brother.  
  
But still sick.  
  
Too many emotions, and she rose from the porch swing, in turmoil and in upset.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	2. Track Pants

Yogurt Covered Pretzels - 2/?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Katie Singer's doe brown eyes kept glancing over at her own blue ones.  
  
"Yoink", she stated, as she grabbed another of Jessie's malted fries.  
  
"Hey! Get your own!"  
  
"Well - are you going to eat them? Because I've maxed out my 'emergency' credit card buying all these clothes. So, I'm just 'borrowing' your fries!"  
  
"Yeah right", Jess mumbled good-naturedly before passing over the remaining starchies. "Finish them if you want, I'm going to get a root beer."  
  
And Katie did just that, sprinkling a little more Cajun salt over them before nearly inhaling the lot and getting up to find her friend.  
  
Semi-twirling near the cashier lane, she stopped abruptly, her sneaker's squealing on the mall tiles.  
  
"Hey there, partner - how about a coke?"  
  
Jessie grinned widely, requesting a second pop, before quickly freeing a nearby straw from its paper wrapper. Passing the beverage back to Katie, she turned on her heel and grabbed her black backpack.  
  
"Ok. So now I have to find some sort of top for this party. You know - Lily and my Dad's first anniversary?", she clarified, at Katie's confused expression.  
  
"Gosh - has it been a year already?"  
  
Jessie frowned. "'Fraid so. Okay. Black jeans. Those are casual, but still can look nice with a belt and pretty top right?"  
  
Katie laughed. "Check. And the next item up for bid is."  
  
The petite blonde started ravaging through her belongings. "Imitation suede docks. I'm not wearing a dress, so really fancy shoes are out of the question. I also got this too - while you were wasting a year's allowance at Wet Seal."  
  
She proceeded to show her friend a pewter necklace inlaid with light blue stone, and a belt of the same make.  
  
"Ohhh! Me like. It looks great - matches your eyes." Katie then proceeded to blink hers for emphasis, and Jessie giggled.  
  
Calming down she added, "So now I need a shirt - I'm thinking, umm, blue - so at least everything works. And then comes the toughy - a present for Dad and Lily. How much time do we have, by the way?"  
  
Katie's eyes dived to her watch. "Ohhh - lots of time. Three hours."  
  
"Well, that'll pass quicker than you'd think. Come on."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The light in here was harsh, and Jessie pulled out her purple sunglasses.  
  
"Oh - don't be a wuss, Jessouska."  
  
"Katie, Jessouska is NOT a Russian name. And I'm not a 'wuss'. I don't want to develop a migraine, thank you very much." Her smile belied her feigned irritation.  
  
"Ok, what is so great about this place?"  
  
Jessie was tenderly brushing the leaves of a stalky plant. It stood about four feet tall, and was encased in a terracotta pot.  
  
"It's called an 'Immortal Beloved' - the consumer name given for this bamboo variety. Symbolically, and otherwise - I think a plant would make a good gift, don't you? Something living that has the capacity to grow? Something that will only grow well if it's given what it needs. Love. Attention."  
  
"Nutrients?", Katie supplied, all at once wincing at how that sounded.  
  
Jessie looked temporarily uncomfortable, and uttered a quiet "mhmm hmm".  
  
She now held the base of the plant in her spindly arms, her shirt cuffs rising above the pale, bone-stretched skin of her wrist and lower arms.  
  
Katie glanced elsewhere, concerned at the apparent relapse in her friends 'condition'.  
  
"Need some help with that Jess?"  
  
And Jessie nodded quickly - her face red at the minor exertion.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The thump of footfalls on the attic stairs broke her concentration. "What are you doing, sweetie?"  
  
Jessie had a blue terry cloth robe wrapped tightly around her body.  
  
"Reading Carson McCullers."  
  
"Ah - Judy's recommendation. How's his stuff?"  
  
Jessie grinned widely. "Carson McCullers was a 'she' Dad. And her stuff is great. That's why I'm reading it."  
  
Her head tucked back down, and one small fist crumpled up between the pocket of her chin and neck.  
  
Rick Sammler ambled over to the bed's edge and sat down.  
  
"Sweetie?"  
  
"Hmm - what?", Jessie asked distractedly, still half-reading.  
  
"Are you okay?" His voice sounded too soft. That irritated her. She wished people would just come out and ask what they wanted to know.  
  
"What do you mean?", she asked tensely.  
  
"Sweetie, you are eating enough lately? Be honest with me."  
  
"Daddy-really, please don't-"  
  
"Jessie -are you relapsing? Just tell me the truth!"  
  
"Dad! Let me speak why don't you!" Her eyes now blazed.  
  
The two waited in silence for the other to speak, before the teen mumbled a barely coherent, "Can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm really tired."  
  
"No Jess. This is important and I think-"  
  
His sentence was broken off midway as the impish figure of Zoë flew up the stairs.  
  
"Rick! Mum caught her hand in the piping. She was fixing the sink and-"  
  
Jessie inwardly grinned, but kept her outwards physique neutral as her Dad leaned over to give her a hug, and whispered, "Tomorrow Jessie - I mean it. Before breakfast - we are discussing this."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Her hair had since dried from her shower. It stood poker straight and awkward and slightly tangled.  
  
Jessie was wide-awake with apprehension and ill ease. Grabbing her digital alarm clock from the edge of the bed, she pulled it closer to her, and turned it around.  
  
The bright, squared numerals glowed *5:28* in the darkened attic space, and she sighed.  
  
She weighed her options. She could try to get an hour of sleep, before her Dad would 'wake' her - which was probably an unattainable goal anyway, and which would then result in a huge family breakfast of vegetarian omelets, fruit smoothies, rye toast and jelly, not to mention blueberry yogurt - and, on top of that, an insanely tense discussion about her reluctance to eat or-  
  
Or she could get up now, and quickly and quietly pull her clothes from her dresser and get ready at school in the girl's bathroom. She could leave Lily and her Dad a note, grab some bottled water and change for the bus, and clear her mind on the race track for a couple of hours before first period began.  
  
And yes, her Dad wouldn't be too happy with her. But if she got home early, she'd meet up with Eli to set up the surprise anniversary decorations, and he couldn't very well broach the subject with her then. Later that night, she'd eat a 'normal' portion of food to allay his worries, and then busy herself with Grace or Zoë until Katie picked her up for their sleepover.  
  
With any such luck, her actions - her energy, and her snacking at the party - would cause him to drop the matter entirely.  
  
Smoothing the thin green hoodie over her thin frame, she dashed to her third story window. Climbing out onto the roof, jean jacket and backpack securely wrapped around her, she jumped to a lowered branch, and began the familiar climb down.  
  
Darting down the back alley, she ran up towards Eli's shed, and with note in hand, began to deposit the letter under his door.  
  
Then she started off jogging again, but became annoyed when the movement activated garage light flicked on as she accidentally dropped her sack.  
  
And even more annoyed when she looked upwards to see the inquisitive, concerned face of Lily mere feet from where she now was scooping notebooks, pencils and loose-leaf up from the asphalt.  
  
"Jessie?"  
  
She gulped - hopefully inaudibly, and all at once felt like crying.  
  
Track pants hung from her lean frame, hair pulled up in a bun, and her eyes blackened from a night of sleeplessness.  
  
"I was - I was just going to - go for-"  
  
And she did start crying; it was as if her body had a mind of its own. She didn't WANT to cry, but she was crying all the same. She didn't even feel sad.  
  
Maybe she was going crazy.  
  
The feeling of craziness intensified as the garage door was opened, and her teenaged brother exited from its interior.  
  
"Jess? Lily - what's going on?"  
  
Lily spoke calmly. "It's alright Eli. I'll handle this - just go back to bed."  
  
Eli did so - reluctantly, and with his departure, Lily moved closer to the young girl.  
  
"Sweetie? It's 5:50 in the morning. What are you doing?"  
  
Jessie glanced at her shoes. "Going to school", her voice was cluttered with tears.  
  
"At 5:50 in the morning?"  
  
"I was going to go for a run on the track first."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To clear my head", and with that, she exhaled a shuddering breath.  
  
"Honey - why don't you come inside, and we will talk."  
  
Jessie pulled away, her back going as rigid as a board, and face steely.  
  
"I actually was going to school earlier so I wouldn't have to talk with my Dad."  
  
Lily sighed, and re-evaluated the situation.  
  
"Well - why don't we talk about anything? Anything at all - your choice. I'll make us some tea, and I'll talk to your Dad. But sweetie, I don't think it's safe for you to be running off like this in Chicago when it's still dark out. Come on - come on inside."  
  
Listening, dutifully, to her stepmother, she retreated back to the oppressive heat of the house, and felt the rotten feeling of the previous evening - the feeling that was always with her, and only ever temporarily dispelled - intensify.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~* TBC? Send me a review! :) 


	3. Fair ground annoyances

Title: Yogurt Covered Pretzels - Part 3  
  
Author: Chloe-Bee  
  
It was 12:05 pm , and Jessie had departed from school - still dressed in her black track pants, and soccer uniform - face muddy, and hair stringy with sweat.  
  
Her stomach ached so much, and she sat nervously on the public bus, one leg hopping up and down in nervous anticipation. The swelling of her abdomen made her feel sick, and she nearly stumbled from the vehicle when it came to her stop.  
  
Trotting down the street, she made her way to the family's back porch, and scrambled for the key under the Berber welcome mat before letting herself in and running upstairs.  
  
When she got to the bathroom entrance, she shut the door softly - aware that Lily would be home for at least another hour before she was required to go to the radio station.  
  
Pulling up the edge of her shirt, she took in a gasp of air. Her belly and uterine region were almost puffy, but contrasted starkly with the general near-emaciation of her frame. Bloated belly, but stick thin arms, and a prominent rib cage.  
  
"Stupid Grace", she thought miserably, remembering how the older girl had met up with her at break, and had not-so-subtlety made her eat by shoving off peanut butter sandwiches on her.  
  
She had eaten two then, just to appease her stepsister, before trudging off to gym.  
  
But something had changed. Eating the food had awaken her sense of hunger. She could go days - weeks really - on such a little bit of food, but when forced to eat something substantial, she realized how much she had craved 'it'. 'It' being nourishment - taste - fullness.  
  
Hiding out in the girl's locker room, she had slipped out of class, and had made her way to the north wing of the school - feeling jittery and nauseous with the knowledge of what she was about to do.  
  
After buying five or six chocolate bars from the vending machine, she had retreated back to the washroom, and had devoured them quickly. Such behavior was unlike her. She never binged - even in a 'small' sense, but instead, employed such great control - such powers of restriction. She usually ate slowly - cutting her food into miniscule portions, and downing every bite with a swig of water or diet pop to help 'fill her up'. This time, she nearly inhaled the Twix, and the Reeces Pieces, and the Aero bars. Such need - such hurry and franticness. As if she could never have chocolate again, or as if someone could come by any second and take her foodstuffs from her. Usually, it was as if two people were wagging a war within her body - one, the rational individual - scared by her reluctance to eat - her self- starvation. This 'being' she often thought of as the weak part of herself - a part that usually allowed her to munch on an apple or a carrot stick. The other part of her was the regimented mind - ignoring her bodily requests for food, and feeling nothing but sick with guilt if she ate. Obsessively training her to enjoy the feeling of hunger, and to hate the feeling of fullness.  
  
When she realized that she WAS full - full of the sticky, concrete feeling chocolate confections, she had started to panic. WHY had she eaten it - knowing she'd feel this out of control later? This scared?  
  
She had to have known how weak and miserable eating so much would have made her. So she had raced to her locker, and had searched for any remaining change, before hightailing out of the school with her jacket and backpack, and taking the 'el' into the city.  
  
Once there, she had seeked out the nearest drug store, and had purchased an 18 dose box of chocolate Ex-lax, and had actually eaten half of the contents in the pharmacy car lot.  
  
Now she was experiencing the painful cramping and temporary bloating that too much laxative use generally causes. Not to mention that, for her size and body weight, she should have taken ½ the recommended dose.  
  
Luckily, she made it home before she was sick. The pain was starting to increase however, and sweat coated her face.  
  
'Think. If you can get it out, you might feel better', she spoke softly to herself.  
  
She had never tried to make herself vomit before, but now she was doing just that - to her own disgust. With pink toothbrush in hand, she plunged it down her throat, trying in vain to retch up the contents of the laxatives and the chocolate.  
  
Unfortunately, only bile came up, and a second frantic attempt left her with a cut on the upper portion of her mouth and tongue, and as a result, a mouth of blood.  
  
Hot tears slid down her face, as she gave up, and stripped her body of clothes, before stepping into the shower.  
  
It always helped her nerves to feel clean.  
  
Lily Sammler made her way to her daughter Zoë's bedroom. Her arms were occupied with rolled up clean socks, underwear, camisoles, and t-shirts. Smiling lovingly at the child's crayoned drawings of a tree and a butterfly, she opened the oak dresser and deposited the clothes.  
  
She stopped abruptly upon hearing the squeal of the shower being turned off, and ascended the staircase before stopping in front of the washroom door.  
  
Knocking softly, she puzzled at who could be using the shower at such a time, and quickly decided it must be Eli. His hours at the bookstore always varied, and she queried, "Eli? Are you going to be done soon? I've got to get ready for work."  
  
"It's me."  
  
The young, high pitched, girlish voice of Jessie cut through the air. The sound was cut up - hitched - as if she had been crying.  
  
"Jessie? Honey? Are you okay?"  
  
Lily glanced at her watch. It was 1:22.  
  
The teen was supposed to be at school.  
  
Quietness permeated her senses for a few seconds, and then a resounding, "I think I have the flu."  
  
"Well, why don't you come out of there so we don't have to half yell at one another, k?"  
  
The door creaked open to reveal a towel clad Jessie - shivering and pale. Her damp light hair was pulled tightly into a bun, and the small white straps of the sports bra could be made out from beneath the terry cloth.  
  
"I don't feel well", the young girl muttered shyly - her eyes darting to the ground.  
  
"Oh sweetie - you look sick! Why don't you get changed into your pj's, and I'll make you some soup?'  
  
Motherly concern, and Jessie almost blanched at the mentioning of food.  
  
"I don't think that would be a good idea", she muttered, before limping off to her attic bedroom.  
  
She knocked three times on the wooden handrail.  
  
"Can I come up, sweetie?"  
  
"Yeah", the young voice coughed.  
  
Lily made her way up the stairs to find Jessie cloaked under blankets. Her green sheep pajamas mirrored the color of her face.  
  
"Okay. Here's the deal. I've phoned your school and informed them that you have the flu. The vice-principle said that she'd contact your teachers, and that your friend Katie will grab any assignments for you. I also contacted your Dad. He told me that Eli should be home within a few hours and will check up on you then. So - just try to get some rest sweetie."  
  
Jessie visibly relaxed, and muttered a hoarse, "Alright. But - but I don't need Eli to babysit me. I AM 15."  
  
The youth seemed to be a good deal younger as she argued this point. Her elfin features were drawn in pain, and her thin form was clearly highlighted by the light fabric and material of her pajamas. She seemed, in Lily's mind - so delicate. So fragile.  
  
"Oh sweetie. I know that. If I thought you needed a babysitter, I wouldn't be going to work. I just meant that Eli will be home in a little while as it is, and I phoned him up, and he's going to grab you some Gravol and some heat packs, just in case the flu gets worse."  
  
Another nod, before Jessie let her small head plummet back to the softness of her pillow.  
  
"Right", she muttered sleepily.  
  
Lily had started to rise, but stopped as Jessie added, "I want to feel better - I don't want to miss the party."  
  
*The anniversary. 'THE' party."  
  
And all at once Lily started to wonder if the girl's nerves were the cause of her fatigue and nausea.  
  
"Honey - it's going to be just a small thing with the family, and everyone would understand you not being present if you were sick."  
  
Lily made her way back to the bed, "Rick and I agreed on Boston Pizza", she laughed earnestly, "not some schmancy fancy restaurant. But a place where us and the kids could just go for some grub, and then I think we were going to drop everyone off and go and see a film. And on Saturday, we are going - all of us - to the fair. And I'm sure you will feel better by then. So you won't miss too much, hon. Just sleep."  
  
And Jessie did just that.  
  
"Jess - I'm home!"  
  
Eli called through the house, before jogging up to her room.  
  
"Hey sis. Lil' said you felt like crap, so I got you some stuff. This stuff here - it tastes like CHERRIES", Eli made a funny face, trying to convince his little sister that the medicine actually tasted good.  
  
"God Eli. I'm not four. So please don't launch into the "here comes the cho- cho" speak."  
  
Eli laughed, and chucked the package of Gravol towards Jessie, who picked up the cardboard package before starting to read the medical contents list.  
  
Eli frowned at this, and tried to break her concentration.  
  
"And item number 2 today is - da daa - miiiiiint gum."  
  
That too went flying - nearly hitting the prone Jessie in the stomach.  
  
"Watch it!", she laughed, before stretching a peeked arm out towards her tumbler and swallowing some of the tepid water that lay within.  
  
"Now for the real kicker - and only because I'm such a wonderful, compassionate."  
  
"Cuckoo", Jessie muttered.  
  
"Hey! That's the thanks I get for buying you treats? Fine, I think I'll keep these", he read the titles of the objects now in his possession, "Seventeen and YM magazines for myself! It has an interesting article in here about how to redecorate your room using animal print designs."  
  
Jessie giggled, and opened her arms, while Eli trotted over to her side, and deposited the reading material into her hands.  
  
"Here you go, Stinky!"  
  
"Hey! I do not smell. I took, like, umm, 3 showers today."  
  
Eli grinned, "Yeah - I know. You're a neurotic clean freak."  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"Oh - lip balm. I got this for you too."  
  
Jessie smiled, and took it graciously, before piping up. "Why are you spoiling me? You didn't have to do all this. Plus, you are acting kind of strange. How much coffee have you had?" She laughed again.  
  
"Wha-me being generous is STRANGE?", the older teen asked in feigned outrage.  
  
"No - I mean - what's the catch?", she clarified.  
  
Eli sighed. "Oh Jess. There IS no catch. I just felt badly for giving you a hard time the other day."  
  
Jessie's face must have registered her confusion, for her brother clarified by adding, "You know - about the pretzels?"  
  
"Oh."  
  
"See - you may not believe this. But I'm just - scared - for you. I don't want you to get sicker. No one does. But, I know how badly I'd feel if people were always watching me - always trying to get me to do something that I didn't want to do. Something that made me feel sick."  
  
His voice had become soft, and Jessie felt tears prick her eyes, and averted her gaze.  
  
"Oh", she voiced. It felt as if she had swallowed a frog.  
  
"Just - rest up, okay?", Eli uttered in a sotto voice. "I'll try to back off. I know you are doing your best."  
  
She felt guilty then. She had been lying so much. She didn't have the flu. She was binging and then trying to make herself sick. She was restricting and fainting at school. She was deceiving her family. And they were buying her 'treats', and trying to make her feel better.  
  
She was scaring them, and they were trying so hard.  
  
The reality hit her hard, and she tried to not cry then and there.  
  
"Thanks Eli", she winced at her own voice - hating everything about herself right now.  
  
Eli took a deep breath - the earlier silliness and jokiness of his mood now eradicated.  
  
"Grace told me how she, well, basically cornered you. How she made you eat those sandwiches."  
  
Jessie offered up a weak smile, "She didn't FORCE me to eat them Eli."  
  
"No, no", he shook his head, "but she made it hard for you to refuse. You know - in front of your friends and all. She phoned me up after lunch. She wanted to apologize to you, but couldn't find you - she was worried."  
  
*Grace was worried?*  
  
"Why?", Jessie asked cautiously.  
  
"Jess - she said you seemed - kind of, restless after. That you ran off. She knew you were upset. I-just-just rest up okay? I'll bring you up something to drink a little while later."  
  
And she managed to avoid crying.  
  
At least, she did while in his presence.  
  
But, upon his departure, the tears came full force.  
  
*You are so pathetic!*  
  
How she hated herself right now.  
  
Three Days Later  
  
Red, blue and orange balloons loomed around the gates entrance.  
  
Jessie could smell the cinnamon mini donuts, and the candy cane apples, and the popcorn, and steeled herself for the night ahead.  
  
*You aren't going to have any. You are going to have some water. You aren't going to eat.*  
  
A silent mantra. A prayer.  
  
She hoped it worked.  
  
Rick came up behind her, and clouded her eyes with his hands.  
  
"Guess who?"  
  
"Dad!", she spun around, "Cool - I didn't think you'd make it!"  
  
"Where are the others?"  
  
Rick scanned the grounds.  
  
"Oh - they gave me the old high-ho, and told me to get in line and to get the bracelets. I think they are still at the car, getting the cooler and everything", her voice trailed off.  
  
Rick Sammler waited patiently with his daughter in one of the fair entrance lines. Upon getting to the tickets booth, he passed over two twenties to Jessie. "Okay little lady. How many?", the carnival worker questioned the teen.  
  
Jessie scanned the ticket requirements. "Umm - one all day pass for a child, one for a youth, and four adults please."  
  
Yellow, blue and white plastic bands were passed back to her, along with $2.50 spare change.  
  
"Boy that's expensive."  
  
Rick laughed, "Too bad Grace and Eli are considered 'adults'. Otherwise we could have saved $10.00 They don't act like it, but we gotta pay full price for them!"  
  
Jessie grinned, before trying to strap on her youth bracelet. "Hey - in two years you will have to pay full fare for me too!"  
  
Rick muttered, "Yeah. I can hardly believe it. My little girl - growing up so quickly."  
  
Jessie smiled serenely, "But at least I don't act immature like E!"  
  
As if on queue - "Hey Stinky!" Eli called out, and Rick's face scrunched up.  
  
"Don't ask", Jessie informed him, before holding out her bracelet, and indicating that she was having difficulty strapping it on her wrist with one hand. "Dad, can you clip it on?"  
  
Rick did so quickly, feeling the brief fluttering of fear in his stomach as he rolled up his daughter's cuff.  
  
She was getting thinner by the day.  
  
Jessie half turned at the sound of Zoë and Grace's approach. "Here are your bracelets, you guys. Yours is yellow, Zoë."  
  
"No way! You can't ride the Ultimator if you have a child fare bracelet! This sucks!"  
  
Jessie shrugged non-combatively. "Don't tell me. Tell God. It's his fault you are 11."  
  
"Why didn't you ask for TWO youth bracelets?"  
  
Jessie shrugged, "Because only *I* am youth age. According to these guidelines. So I only asked for ONE."  
  
The idea of deception hadn't arisen in Jessie's mind.  
  
Zoë looked up at her mother, "MOOOOM - can't we exchange it for a youth one? I can pass for 13!"  
  
Grace took her white bracelet with a laugh, "With that stunning display of maturity, you can't even pass for 10!"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
Rick held up his hands in a gesture of 'time out', "Okay - cool it! We will get another bracelet. Would everyone just relax, please?"  
  
"You are still going to be too short to ride the Ultimator anyway", Grace muttered, while Eli laughed and marched off towards a booth that proclaimed, OLD FASHIONED BURGERS.  
  
The group sashayed over towards the stand.  
  
Rick quickly scanned the contents on the marquis, which were being offered, while the kids told him what they wanted.  
  
"Ohhh - can I have one of those mini-donut specials, honey? I haven't had carnee donuts in so long!"  
  
Lily wagged her eyebrows at her husband, while Rick responded in a sweet falsetto, "Certainly 'dear' - Jess, what do you want?"  
  
*Think fast!*  
  
"I'm good", the young blonde waved her hands in a motion of dismissal.  
  
"Honey.", there was a note of pleading. Grace and Zoë looked uncomfortable, and Eli's features were strained.  
  
"Jess", Eli began.  
  
"No - I mean, can't I eat later? Isn't it stupid to eat supper and THEN go on roller coasters and ferris wheels and bumper cars?"  
  
Her laugh sounded strained as she tried to appease their better sense.  
  
Rick looked defeated, "But aren't you hungry, sweetie?"  
  
"Look Jessie - they have candy apples. You like candy apples", Zoë began, doing her best to sway the older girl.  
  
"Fine", Jessie muttered darkly. "I'll have a candy apple."  
TBC? - Please review ;) 


	4. Gummy frogs

Title: Yogurt Covered Pretzels - 4/?  
  
Author: Chloe-Bee  
  
Authors notes: I apologize for the formatting problems in the previous chapter. Originally, there were breaks between the scene changes, and for whatever reason fanfiction.net removed them.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Guys - guys - CLASS. C'mon. SEATS. Now!"  
  
Mr. Harrison was 34. He looked closer to 24, and had a charming exuberance. He got along with the teenagers, and they listened to him. They respected him. But, it was nearing spring break, and it was getting increasingly difficult for anyone to concentrate on health class and biology.  
  
Jessie, clad in a pink waffle shirt, shakily smoothed back her hair, and pulled the tangly mass into a blue scrunchie. Glancing over at her friend Becca, she rolled her eyes, and mouthed '48 hours'. The older girl stifled a laugh and gave a curt, agreeing nod.  
  
Everyone was ready for break. Beaches and Six Flag Mountain and road trips.  
  
It was almost 4:00 pm on a Wednesday afternoon, and the last day of classes was the upcoming Friday. The excitement was nearly tangible.  
  
Turning her attention back to the large drop screen and projector, Jess felt her stomach clench as the health video began.  
  
The title of the documentary screamed, "Eating Disorders and the 21st Century", and in anxiety Jessie quietly opened her purple zip binder, and flipped to her Bio 101 syllabus.  
  
Sure enough, the classes of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday were dedicated to the topic of "The Psychiatry Behind Disordered Eating", and she inwardly grimaced, and forced herself to relax. Rumors about her - about her having a 'problem', were already prevalent, and if she acted uptight, she'd just be confirming everyone's suspicions.  
  
Plucking out a ballpoint and a sheet of loose-leaf, she tried to concentrate on the screen, and to appear natural.  
  
"Anorexia Nervosa - formerly called 'self starvation', is not new, nor is a disorder that simply strikes affluent white and female adolescents. It has roots - documentation - going back over 400 years, and cases have been reported from every content, with victims in nearly every age range. However-"  
  
*Please shut up*, Jessie willed the speaker, and sighed as the thick brogue of the Irish reporter carried on.  
  
"If we were to give a 'face' to the disease - a verbal run down of a high risk target for this eating disorder, we would, in fact, be looking at a Caucasian female from a middle to upper class family. Usually, the disorder is reported among residents of G-7 nations, such as North America. A common age for the disorder to initially strike is at 14 years, and a second peak age is at 18 or 19 years of age, with individuals between the ages of 15 and 25 at greatest risk for developing the disease. Such girls are generally highly perfectionistic, high achieving students, and often - excellent athletes. Many are somewhat rigid or set in their ways, and are resistant to change. The disorder often develops after a stressor such as a major move, death of a loved one, or divorce within the family."  
  
Jessie winced, rubbed her eyes, and let out a soft, pent-up breath.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Dad - I'm hooo-ome."  
  
Jessie Sammler tossed her duffle towards the fridge, and flounced over the dishwasher, before opening the machine and grabbing her Fresca water bottle from the inner shelf.  
  
Trotting over to the sink, she fiddled with water purifier before refilling her bottle with fresh liquid.  
  
Turning on her heel, she nearly ran into Grace.  
  
"Uhh - hey."  
  
*That sounded forced!*  
  
"Hey", Grace responded, almost suspiciously.  
  
"Have you seen my Dad?"  
  
"Uh-uh", Grace muttered, before seating herself at the kitchen island, and plopping her frame down onto a steel rimmed stool. Pulling an assortment of Tupperware out of her red Jansport backpack, she proceeded to take a hefty bite out of a mustard and relish bologna sandwich.  
  
Jessie, unknowingly, had continued to stare at her.  
  
"Hmm-wh-is-ifpt?", Grace mumbled, mouth half full with processed meat and wonder bread.  
  
"Oh - umm, nothing", Jessie uttered, mouth watering as she watched the elder girl eat. "If anyone asks, I biked over to the park. I'm meeting up with Katie, k?"  
  
Grace shook her head, "No way. It isn't my duty to act as your messenger. We have a post-it board. Tell 'em yourself."  
  
Jessie sighed, marched over to the white erasable board, and scrounged throughout the nearby pullout cabinet to find the appropriate marker.  
  
In small, looping letters she scrawled, "Went to the park. Will grab supper at Katie's. Love you. J".  
  
Adding a few red hearts, she then left.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Her bike was old. She had used the same one since she was 12 years old, and the pink frame was now quite scratched. Therefore, she often 'forgot' to take along her bike lock. She knew that it wouldn't be a targeted bicycle - no one would want to steal it, but, at the same time, she wondered if she didn't, in a way, want it to get taken. So she'd have an excuse for getting a newer one.  
  
At that thought, Jess laughed, jumped from the black seat, and, with water bottle in hand, ran over the fine, white gravel and pebbles of the elementary schoolyard playground.  
  
She hadn't been here since the last day of the 5th grade - nearly five years. Boy, time really flew. Could so much time have progressed so quickly?  
  
Jessie's eyes darted up and over the wood beams of the swing set, and she dropped her svelte body into the rubberized curve of one of the swing sets, before she started to move. Up and up and up, and then, with back tilted and hair dangling (unbound of any elastics or barrettes), she fell back towards the ground. She twisted her body in the seat, and let her eyes scan the sky. The rush of air assaulted her, and despite the fact that it was nearly April, she all at once felt chilled. Buttoning up her jean jacket, she carried on.  
  
She checked her watch - 6:04 - and prepared to descend towards the ground once again. The feeling was - freeing. The sky was quickly loosing its afternoon blueness, and the indigo of a twilight time was infusing her surroundings. The streetlights had since turned on, and when at last Jessie could barely see the ground - for it had gotten too dark - she stopped her pumping and ejected herself from her swing seat - mid-swing. Swarming through the air, she landed with a soft thud against the scruffy rock ground - palms outwards. The small white stones scuffed up her hands, and a burning heat merged with a grimy-ness from her fall, as well as a stinging pain as small droplets of blood began to muck up the sensitive flesh.  
  
"Ouch!" Remedying the situation by wiping the sticky redness on the knees of her jeans, she jogged back to her bike, and leisurely rode to the nearby convenience store. Once inside the 7-11, she pulled out her spare change, bought a fruit slurpee and frog gummies, and happily made her way back home.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
She chucked the last gummy up into the air as she entered through the back door, and proceeded to try and catch it with her mouth - open. Eli, however, scrambled for it, as he had eyed her bag of treats as she had first come inside. Knocking it out of the air and away from his sister, he scrambled for the green candy on the ground, pilfered it, and gobbled it up - teeth flashing as he grinned a broad grin.  
  
"You need to learn to share, Jess!"  
  
"Ugh! I hate you. Those were my gummies!"  
  
Eli laughed, and added in a goofy voice, "Oooh - but you know froggie woggy gummies are my favorite."  
  
Jess burst out giggling, "You are such a weird-o!"  
  
"Hey princess, where have you been?"  
  
Jessie turned towards the voice of her father - face a mask of confusion.  
  
"Uh - I was at the park. I left you-"  
  
Rick Sammler looked somewhat angry as his daughter began to speak. "E? Could you excuse us, please?"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
tbc? - send me a review!! Pretty please!? 


	5. IHOP

Title: Yogurt Covered Pretzels - 5/?  
  
Author: Chloe-Bee  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Jessie's POV  
  
Great. He's angry. I don't even know what I did wrong now. I mean - I left him a message. And I was back before 8:00 pm too. Jeez. Oh man - what did he just say?  
  
*Pay attention Sammler*  
  
"Uh - what - what was that Dad?"  
  
He bites his lower lip with his upper teeth. He only does that when he's mad.  
  
"I need to know I can trust you Jess. So I want you to stop it with this lying."  
  
Whoa. What the heck?  
  
"What are you talking about?? I DID go to the park. And I left you a message! You are being totally unfair!"  
  
"And you also ate dinner at Katie's, huh Jess? I'd like to know what you guys ate. Because Katie actually phoned here wondering where you were!"  
  
Uh oh. Busted. Think fast.  
  
I have to confess.  
  
"No. I grabbed dinner at Rico's. Then I got snacks at 7-11. I know. Not good. I was supposed to meet Katie. But she never showed up! We probably mixed up the meeting place. She probably thought I meant the high school park, and I meant the elementary playground cause it's closer to her house- "  
  
I'm rambling. I stop talking.  
  
His look of anger falters for a second.  
  
"Rico's?" He sounds suspicious.  
  
See - I never did go to Rico's. It was just the first thing to pop into my head because I saw the little café on my way home. And since I had my slurpee cup in my hand, I figured that I might as well squish a lie between two truths. That way it seems the most believable.  
  
But Rico's? Why did I choose that? Rico's only sells pizza by the slice. That - and French fries. Foods that I never eat as they tend to glob up in my stomach. They feel like wet mounds of concrete - and it takes my body forever to digest them. I like my stomach to feel free of foods, so when I DO eat, it has to be something light and airy. Something that doesn't weigh me down. Diet jello or maybe diet pudding - whipped. Or popcorn. Gummies. Or a few corn puffs - pre-measured. Not pizza and French fries. Never pizza and French fries.  
  
Plus, Rico - the owner - Enrico Gonzalez - knows our entire family.  
  
"So Jessie - if I phone Rico up, he can vouch that you got dinner there tonight?"  
  
He's testing me.  
  
Shit.  
  
"I dunno - maybe Dad. He was sort of busy tonight! But you'd do that too, wouldn't you? I mean, I didn't DO anything wrong, but you'd check up on me wouldn't you? After I left you a message and got home way before curfew and everything!"  
  
I try to make my voice sound indignant. How can I act so well? I just lied to my own father!  
  
His eyebrows curve upwards, and his face softens.  
  
"Okay hun'. Just - well, we will eat breakfast tomorrow. Why don't we go to IHOP in the morning? Eli can come too."  
  
Great. This is peachy keen. But what choice do I have?  
  
"Fine", I mutter, before stalking off to my room.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The thing I like about IHOP is how they bring out your hot chocolate in dark colored mugs.  
  
So - if you drink ½ your hot chocolate before your meal comes, and if you are careful not to get caught, you can spit out a reasonable amount of your pancake back into the mug. Then you can feign fullness, and have the rest of your breakfast wrapped up. To complete this little act, if you are really cautious, you can then get rid of a good majority of the remaining breakfast by stuffing it down the garb-orator. Hard to do in a house with six people - minimally - mulling around, but still possible.  
  
However, you don't want to get rid of ALL of it when you do this. Mark my words - that never works. See, you get rid of a good lot of the take out (but not all), that way, you can let a few mouthfuls just fester and fester, and if your parents check up on you - on your food, I should say - they can see that you've 'eaten some', but not all. All, in my case, if I HAD eaten 'all' - well, that would look suspicious.  
  
Then, if you let enough time pass, they will just chuck out the remainder of your food.  
  
It's a great skill that I've finely crafted throughout the last couple of years.  
  
But my Dad is tricky today.  
  
"Honey - hot chocolate has so much sugar. It's not good for you. Certainly not first thing in the morning. How about an orange juice?"  
  
NO - I feel like screaming - NOT ORANGE JUICE. (See, orange juice comes in a clear glass. Plus, juice has a ton of calories. Over 100 per glass. It's ridiculous).  
  
"No - it's alright Daddy. I just had a craving for hot chocolate. But I'm not that thirsty. So water's fine."  
  
Now I have to come up with another plan.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
My Dad ordered me these new cream cheese stuffed fruit pancakes. The whole concoction has hash browns included too.  
  
Is he trying to make me sick?  
  
My stomach quietly gurgles in acquiescence.  
  
"You sound hungry, Jess."  
  
That's Eli. Pointing out the obvious. Of course I'm hungry!  
  
I'm starving.  
  
But I can't let myself eat.  
  
Summing up the situation, I realize what I have to do. First of all, I take the blueberries and raspberries out of their side dish and liberally apply them all over the cream cheese artery clogging mass of flapjacks.  
  
Then I cut up the pancakes. Into really fine pieces, but I don't take too long at this task. Otherwise, it would look like I'm avoiding eating.  
  
I take a bite of berries - but I'm careful that no pancakes or anything resembling hash-browns are included in this 'bite'. I make a joke with my mouth half full for pure emphasis.  
  
The sound of me talking - with my mouth full - will linger in their minds. That'll help.  
  
Next I take a huge, long sip of water.  
  
Another bite of berries. It's only a small amount of fruit, but if you put it into your mouth fast enough, no one can tell. Then, you chew slowly.  
  
Now, at this stage, you make it seem like you are spreading the pancake pieces around so that they get coated in syrup.  
  
What you are really doing is spreading the food around your plate, so that it is harder for someone to figure out how much you have - or haven't - eaten.  
  
Another bite of berries. I don't want to get past five. This is bite three.  
  
I surreptitiously glance to my Dad. He's a bit more relaxed than he was initially, and when he turns to Eli, I take another sip of water.  
  
Now, for a wonderful, well practiced move on my part.  
  
I take a huge bite of pancakes at just the riiiight time. Add some whipped cream. Berries. Even a dab of hash browns. It's really a burgeoning bite. Even Eli makes some comment amount not stuffing my face. I make sure that it is obvious to Eli and Dad as I let the goopy mess pass my lips. I put it in my mouth, and slowly chew.  
  
Eli, right on queue by my estimate, makes some lame joke. I pretend to find it funny, and start laughing.  
  
Now for the kicker. I pretend wince. In pain. I make it seem as if I've bitten my tongue. In my exuberance, I actually do, and as I start to gasp, I take my white napkin, and spit the food out into it, and neatly wrap the sides. Then I dab my tongue so that a little blood mars the surface of the white.  
  
"Are you okay honey?"  
  
My face is red from coughing. I can feel it.  
  
"I'm fine Dad. Just - damn Eli! Don't make me laugh when I'm eating."  
  
When I'm eating. As if that is some normal, everyday activity that I partake in.  
  
I hold up the napkin and twirl it just a little bit.  
  
Eli winces, and Dad looks a little concerned.  
  
"Did you - is that blood? Honey, did you cut yourself?"  
  
"I just bit my tongue", I mumble.  
  
E pipes up.  
  
"Is it really bleeding? Maybe you should go to the washroom and clean up?"  
  
I nod, then quickly poke my pancakes and take another really large bite of food. My cheeks are probably bulging.  
  
Then I get up, stalk to the washroom, and quickly spit the food out in the toilet.  
  
*Quick Sammler!*  
  
Dashing to the nearest cubicle, I pull off a ream of paper, wet it, and dab a bit of blood. I quickly straighten my shirt in the mirror, and re-adjust my hair pony.  
  
Then I go back to my seat, and hold the wet cloth to my lip.  
  
I don't want to take too long in a restroom after eating - not ever.  
  
The last thing I'd want my family to think is that I was bulimic. That would make things so much worse.  
  
So, I'm back in a flash.  
  
Eli mutters an apology, and I wave my hands in dismissal.  
  
"No problem", I say with a small smile, before I poke a few berries and slowly chew.  
  
(That's 4 bites!)  
  
This time I take two long swigs of water. I also glance at my plate. I've made a dent in the mass of food, believe it or not. And in reality, I know that I couldn't have eaten more than four bites of berries.  
  
I spread some of the whipped cream out over my plate - along the rim of the IHOP dish. Mucking it up just a bit more.  
  
Then I take another swig of water, and glance at my watch.  
  
"Dad - we've got to get going! School starts in 20 minutes!"  
  
One more sip, and then Dad turns to me. He appraises my meal, and squints his eyes. Glancing to Eli, I can see him measuring things up.  
  
Eli, of course, is always the little pig, and has already inhaled all of his food.  
  
Dad's eaten his entire egg benedict too, and is just finishing off his coffee.  
  
"Okay. But one more bite. Pweeease?" He asks in a funny, Igor-ish voice.  
  
I had been counting on this. Besides, I know he is testing me. To see how much of a 'fight' I'll put up.  
  
"Ok - fiiiine." I make a big production of it, and skewer a couple berries, raise them to my lips, and swallow loudly. By my estimate, I haven't consumed more than 25 calories this morning. And I once learned that the average human being burns over 60 calories per hour just sitting in class and taking notes.  
  
So this gunk should be worked off before homeroom lets out.  
  
"Happy?"  
  
"Sure thing Pumpkin. Now, do you want the rest wrapped up?"  
  
*Oh this is too great!*  
  
"Oh - yeah" (I pretend I'm thinking), "Hey Dad? If I wrap it up, I can eat it for lunch or snack. They have a microwave in the main group hall now."  
  
He is pleased as punch and calls the waitress around.  
  
And *now* we can leave.  
  
Finally.  
  
Gosh, breakfasts are tiring.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
tbc? - send me a review!! 


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